


Bloodline

by HighlyGlamorous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cussing, Dominant Draco, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Slow Burn, Submissive Hermione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlyGlamorous/pseuds/HighlyGlamorous
Summary: Dramione. 6th year has just begun and Hermione is determined to make this her best year, because, well it may be her last. While on patrol her first weekend back at Hogwarts, she runs into her childhood tormentor in a compromising position. She should be disgusted, but cannot seem to look away. Hermione's 6th year is about to get a whole lot more complicated. WARNINGS INSIDE.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 24
Kudos: 278





	1. Dazed

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my story! I appreciate you for taking the time to read this and will always be accepting of critique's that will help improve my writing :) With that said please note the following - this is 100% Draco/Hermione so if you don't like the pairing then I don't recommend this story. There will be no bashing of characters, it's just not my style. This is a re-imagining of their 6th year and as of now my intention is to finish this story when their 6th year ends. I will try to remain within character but there may be some OOC moments because, well, I'm not JKR. This will get lemon-y so, if it is not your cup of tea, then I would not read this. I will attempt to make warnings at the beginning of chapters but this is my overarching warning - There will be cussing and there will be sex. With that said, enjoy!

It was very late Friday night or very early Saturday morning as Hermione made a sharp turn down a long corridor. It was the first weekend back in Hogwarts and Hermione had been given the mundane task of patrolling the corridors for any students breaking curfew.

 _Who isn't breaking curfew_? She huffed, pacing down what appeared to be an endless corridor.

It was the beginning of her sixth year and she was already feeling overwhelmed. True to nature, Hermione had a full class schedule, even her free periods were already beginning to feel like they would never actually be "free." On top of that, she had her prefect duties, not to mention the full-time job of keeping Harry and Ron from dying or worse, expelled. Yes, Hermione was very, very busy this year.

Despite this, Hermione had come into her sixth year determined to succeed in all aspects of the school, including the "having fun and relaxing" part. She knew the war would come. Despite what every optimistic person in the Order says, she knew deep within her self, that the war would come. And soon. This could very well be their final year at Hogwarts. Or alive. And she was determined to make it count.

Although she would never admit it out loud, she was kind of tired of being seen as the uptight, prude, goody two shoes. With all the rules she has broken her last five years at Hogwarts, she somehow still couldn't shake the reputation. Most times she didn't really mind it. The reputation came in handy whenever she was caught in said rule-breaking because well, "Hermione could never!" But with it came the expectation of perfection, and that was starting to become a heavy burden on her shoulders. After spending most of her summer at Grimmauld Place, she was starting to notice that most of the adults sort of expected her to keep the other two in line. Harry and Ron could and would mess up with little to no admonishing, but Hermione was expected to know better. Always. It was starting to become just a little bit annoying.

Hermione had made it about halfway down the corridor when she stopped abruptly. She took a deep breath in and then exhaled slowly. _There's no use in getting upset about this now._ She thought to herself as she continued on her way down the empty corridor. _I'm_ _supposed to be having fun and relaxing this year._ She said trying to calm herself.

Unfortunately, the "having fun and relaxing" part was really hard to do when she had been forcibly volunteered to patrol on the first Friday night back to school. All her fellow prefects simply assumed she wouldn't have plans on Friday, because well she's Hermione. They had essentially ganged up on her, and they were lead by the most infuriating platinum-blonde ferret in existence. Hermione huffed out in anger remembering the events that transpired at the first prefect meeting of the year. He somehow had convinced the rest of the prefects that little "Ms. Know-it-All" couldn't possibly have any plans this weekend, other than doing homework of course, so why should the rest of them suffer. Despite him being a downright prat most of the time, he apparently could turn up the charm when it suited him because she was all but threatened into accepting the Friday night patrol shift.

 _How dare he!_ Hermione fumed, as she began approaching the end of the corridor. She was so distracted by her annoyance that she was already rounding the corner when she finally heard a noise that stopped her in her tracks. Her heart pounding, she stuck herself as close to the wall as possible and drew her wand in self-defense. Years of experience had her on-edge. She was trying to pinpoint the sound.Her mind was racing. She took deep, calming breaths. Once her heartbeat was quieted, she strained her ears and closed her eyes. _What is that and where is it coming from?_ It sounded like a wet, sort-of slapping sound, and it seemed to be coming from around the corner, some feet away.

Hermione was perplexed, the sound seemed odd and misplaced. It continued. A rhythmic, wet, slapping sound. Hermione decided she would slowly look around the corner to investigate. She was still unsure of what it could be. It could be students out past curfew. Hermione was aware of some "Welcome back" parties going on. She was near the dungeons, so it could be Slytherins out and about. Or it could be something more ominous. Her prior years at Hogwarts had taught her that you can never be too careful, especially alone in the dark.

The slapping sound increased in frequency.

Hermione inched her way towards the corner and froze.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She heard a female voice shout followed by a moan. Hermione's brain was quickly trying to figure out who the voice belonged to, when another voice chimed in, unintentionally solving the mystery for her.

"For fuck's sake Pansy, shut up!" He groaned, "You're too fucking loud."

Now that voice she knew. His voice was like a bucket of ice-cold water. Her frustration and anger from minutes prior came back to her with a vengeance and she made to round the corner. Hermione meant to catch them in the act of whatever it was they were sneaking around to do and hopefully give them some type of scare and satisfying punishment but her movements were stopped in their tracks when she heard Pansy respond.

"Well…you…you…fucking already…knew this…but…uhh…" Pansy was trying to speak but it came out like pants. The slapping wet sound got louder. Faster. Wetter. "Fuuuck!"

"For shit's sake Pansy." The slapping sound stopped. Hermione didn't move. She couldn't move. Her breath started coming out as shallow pants.

 _They can't be! They certainly can't be doing…_ Hermione's mind was racing a mile a minute. It was connecting dots that she did not want to connect. Especially not when it had to do with those two. Hermione was horrified. She still couldn't move.

The silence was deafening. Hermione was trying to control her breathing. _They must have left by now._ She thought hopefully. Hermione tried to take a deep breath.

"Draco, you didn't finish." She heard Pansy say. Hermione assumed it was meant to sound seductive, but it came out almost like a whine from a petulant child.

"No." He said dully.

Hermione heard some quiet shuffling.

"You don't have too." He said so softly, that Hermione couldn't believe that voice had come from him.

Hermione started to inch her way towards the corner, she just needed to look really quick to make sure that it really was him because there's just no possible way he could ever sound so soft and caring and dare she say, sweet. No way.

"I want too," Pansy said determinedly.

Hermione slowly popped her head around the corner and nearly yelped at what she saw.

Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall, head lulled back, both hands tangled in Pansy's hair while Pansy was on her knees in front of him, head bobbing up and down his…

Hermione wanted to turn around and run away. _This is disgusting._ She thought.

But her legs would not work. Like a car crash, she couldn't look away.

She was enthralled by the image in front of her.

With his eyes closed, mouth slack, and little moans of pleasure escaping every so often, it was almost possible to forget how much of a spoiled prick he could be. And Pansy looked as much into it as he did. Hermione had always thought that doing _that_ would be gross, but the way Pansy did it, the way she licked and sucked, the way her hands wrapped around him…

Hermione started getting flustered. Her ragged breathing had returned. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. More surprisingly, she began to feel heat pool in her stomach. She could feel pressure between her legs that was begging for any type of friction. Her body moved before her brain could catch up. She squeezed her thighs together and _Oh my!_ She closed her eyes. _That felt good._

She was so caught up in the sensation that when she opened her eyes again, she was shocked to see a pair of grey eyes staring at her.

Hermione should say something. Or walk away. Or anything other than stare back. But she couldn't look away. It was like she had left her body and was staring at this insanity from the outside.

Because it was insane. Here she was, rubbing and clenching her thighs, staring directly into the eyes of the person who has tormented and bullied her all these years, as he was receiving a very enthusiastic blowjob from another girl.

The craziest part was, he couldn't look away either. He held Hermione's gaze as he was beginning to approach the edge. His fingers grasped at Pansy's hair more firmly and he began thrusting into her mouth. Pansy let him take control. He was close. And as he fucked Pansy's mouth he continued to stare at Hermione. She was across from him, hidden in the shadows, staring from around the corner.

She seemed flustered, her cheeks pink, and her legs seemed to be crossed and pulsing.

 _Is she…is she turned on by watching me? Us._ He thought to himself. He could feel his muscles begin to contract and retract. Hermione was watching and _Fuck!_ He couldn't help the involuntary shudder that came over him knowing she was watching.

Hermione was clenching her thighs so tightly she was starting to get a cramp but this deep-seated need inside of her was far from being quenched. She felt like she needed more but she didn't know what.

"I'm going to…" He tried to warn Pansy and she squeezed his thighs with her hand as if to say it's okay, go for it.

He gave one last look at Hermione before he erupted into Pansy's mouth. He closed his eyes as he rode out his orgasm. By the time he opened his eyes, Hermione was gone.


	2. Calm

Hermione arrived to the Gryffindor tower heaving and panting. She had practically sprinted back to the common rooms and refused to stop until she was safely inside.

The common room was still crowded, and it was louder than she expected at this hour. It was getting close to 1 in the morning, but a good number of her classmates were sprawled around enjoying themselves, drinking what she could only presume were alcoholic beverages, music playing softly in the background. It seemed the "Welcome Back" party was just starting to wind down.

Harry and Ron sat on the floor near the fireplace playing a card game. Ginny in a chair above them, observing.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted. Ginny gave her a once over and stared intensely, her eyes silently questioning her. Hermione could only imagine what she looked like. Out of breath, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated. Ginny probably thought she had been attacked. Ginny made to get out of her chair to go to Hermione, but Hermione stopped her with a smile. She shook her head from left to right discreetly, it was almost imperceptible, but Ginny saw it. She gave her a concerned look but sat down and stayed quiet anyways.

"Hermione!" The remaining Gryffindors shouted in unison. Hermione waved politely at the crowd and walked towards the trio.

"Are you two drunk?" She said flatly, narrowing her eyes at them but there was no bite behind it.

"Ah! Come on 'Mione." Ron started, "It's the first weekend back. We jus' celebrating is all." He finished, his words starting to bleed into each other.

Harry at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic, he smiled sheepishly at Hermione and raised his glass at her before taking a sip.

Hermione rolled her eyes but made to sit next to Ginny. The warmth of the common room already working its magic on her, soothing her nerves and calming her breaths.

"Hey?" Hermione turned to Ginny, she meant to sound 'carefree and jovial' but it came out more like a 'sheepish question.'

Ginny was about to open her mouth to respond when she noticed Cormac McLaggen approaching the group. He had two drinks in his hand and made to offer one to Hermione. "You look like you could use a drink." He said in a lightly teasing manner. Ginny scoffed silently. Cormac had had his eyes set on Hermione since 4th year's Yule Ball and he was not shy with his advances.

Cormac was tall and broad. His blonde hair framed his face handsomely. His face had strong features and his smile could be blinding. If Hermione had been anyone else she might have felt flustered by his attentions, but she knew Cormac. He was like a severely-watered down version of Malfoy. Despite herself, images of Malfoy thrusting into Pancy's mind rushed through Hermione's head causing her to blush. _Stop it Hermione!_ She chastised herself. Worse, Cormac had seen the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks and he mistook it as only someone with a quite healthy dose of cockiness could. He smirked at Hermione.

Hermione gave Ginny a look and sighed. Despite Cormac begin somewhat of a pushy, arrogant, self-righteous git who would probably read into this more than he should, in small, very small, doses, he was...tolerable. She was about to stretch out her hand to accept his offer but was stopped abruptly.

"Come off it mate. You know 'Mione doesn't drink." Ron's voice slurred. Hermione's rational side knew Ron was trying to be a good friend in his own moronic way, but she was tired of being rational. She had just experienced the most insane night patrol ever and she could very well benefit from a drink or ten to erase the image of Pansy on her knees sucking… _Stop._ _What did I say! You can't go there._ Hermione closed her eyes breifly, she was agitated and snapped.

"You can't possibly know what I do or do not do Ronald." She said coldly, her annoyance of this whole week, this whole summer, starting to boil, and no one was a better target for her ire than the red-headed boy sitting at her feet. "And I'd appreciate if you did not speak on my behalf, especially when you cannot seem to formulate articulate thoughts on your best day, let alone completely sloshed." Ron looked at her shell-shocked. Although he was used to Hermione's admonishments, she had yet to have sounded so frigid. The air around the five Gryffindors felt thick. If Ginny had looked concerned before, Hermione was positive she looked downright worried now.

"Hermione, you know Ron…" Harry began, trying to ease the tension. Harry had fallen into the role of peacemaker over the summer. He was not as stubborn as Ron and seemed to be adept at seeing both sides of a situation. He had mended quite a few arguments between Ron and Hermione over the summer. Hermione turned to face Ron. He looked up at her cautiously. A guilty wave hit her. She shouldn't have snapped at him. Or at least not so harshly. Yes, Ron was being annoying but well, when wasn't he. It wasn't his fault she was all riled up.

Hermione took a deep breath.

"I know. I'm sorry Ron." She said with her eyes still closed, "It's just been a long week." She opened her eyes and looked at everyone in a way that she hoped looked tired but calm. Hermione opened her eyes to see Ron giving her a wary smile. 

"It really has been exhausting, hasn't it." Ginny sighed.

"Sure has." Cormac said as he sat down at the arm of the chair she was currently occupying. Hermione shifted slightly away. She wasn't trying to be rude, but she also did not want to encourage him. Ron and Harry mumbled in agreement, still slightly on edge by Hermione's outburst. 

"All the more reason to drink!" Ginny said loudly, lifting her glass to encourage the remaining Gryffindors in the common room to join them.

Hermione turned to Ginny in relief. Her friend was trying to cut the tension and change the subject on her behalf. Only Hermione could see the tightness around her eyes. Ginny was waiting Hermione out. Unlike her older brother, Ginny was quite adept at buying her time for the most effective results.

 _She's going to pounce on me as soon as we are alone, I just know it._ Hermione groaned.

"Cormac, you going to hand Hermione one of those drinks or are you just going to keep babysitting." Ginny teased him. Neville, Dean, and Parvati, who were sitting close by, erupted in laughter. Hermione didn't think it was that funny but she presumed that to an intoxicated mind, most things would be. Cormac smiled at the girls, "Of course." He extended a drink and Hermione took it, their fingertips brushing against each other briefly. Cormac beamed at her. _I absolutely knew he was going to read way to much into_ _this._

"Thanks." She mumbled, and attempted to smile at him but she felt it may have come out as more of a grimace. She really needed to get herself together. She turned to Ron and Harry on the floor. These were her best friends. They had been through hell the last five years and she'd be damned if she was going to begin her sixth year fighting with both of them. She gave them a genuine and warm smile.

"To a great school year," she said raising her glass, "without any near-death experiences for anyone."

A chorus of laughter and "Here! Here!" erupted from around the common room. Harry and Ron raised their glasses at her and cheered as well. They all took a long sip of their drink.

 _Oh God!_ Hermione tried not to cough. _Does this drink have anything other than firewhisky._ She could feel Cormac staring intently at her, like if he was waiting for an affirmation. She thanked him for the drink and smiled in what she hoped expressed a polite "now please leave me alone."

"So how was your patrol?" Ginny asked, grabbing Hermione's hand and tugging her so that she faced Ginny and effectively gave her back to Cormac. Cormac was many things but stupid was not one of them. He took the hint and walked away with a simple, "Enjoy ladies." Annoyance dripped in his voice but nonetheless he left them alone.

"It was…" Hermione started, images of Malfoy, panting and moaning, hands grasping Pancy's hair, infiltrated her mind in rapid succession, and she could feel the blood rise to her cheeks. "Harry switch drinks with me." She said abruptly. Harry extended his cup and Hermione took it, putting hers in his hand. Ginny gave her a confused look.

"It was uneventful." Hermione finished, turning to Ginny, who had gone from "confused" to "I don't believe a damn word you are saying."

"Eww! Ugh!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. Harry looked at his drink like it was about to attack him, meanwhile Ron started cackling at Harry's face.

"This tastes disgusting Hermione." He said looking at her.

"Well I didn't make it!" Hermione said, she could feel the tension of the last couple of hours, weeks, begin to dissipate. She giggled and took a sip of what used to be Harry's drink. "Much better!" She said beaming a smile at Harry while Harry glared at her. Ginny and Ron started laughing.

"You tricked me!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's not my fault you're so trusting." Hermione goaded him, her eyes twinkled. Harry glared, while the three friends laughed.

After that, the four friends started winding down, talking about the upcoming school year, sipping on their very illegal drinks. Hermione let the warmth of the fire whiskey and her friends wrap around her. The thrill of doing something unexpected like underage drinking made her beam with excitement. The events of the corridor were practically forgotten as her and Ginny downed their third and final drink and began saying their "goodnights" to go off to bed.

It was almost four in the morning, but Hermione wasn't worried. Tomorrow was Saturday and she might even attempt to sleep in.

By the time she tucked herself into Parvati's bed, because her own bed was currently occupied by said girl, probably a little too intoxicated to tell the difference, all she could think about was how amazing this school year was going to be and how she definitely was going to succeed at this "having fun and relaxing" part.

That is, until she closed her eyes and started dreaming of a certain platinum-blonde ferret.


	3. Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit language describing sex and masturbation, cussing, and underage drinking. 

Draco sat on one of the arm chairs near the back corner of the Slytherin common room, sipping his drink, deep in thought. He knew people saw Pansy and him leave together but he didn't particularly care about that. They had been doing this, whatever it was, for a little over a year now, and his fellow Slytherins were used to the pair sneaking off every now and then. This _thing_ with Pansy was complicated to say the least. It wasn't like they were an official couple, although they had tried many times to solidify whatever they were doing. They somehow could never get the timing right. Either way, they both seemed to migrate towards the other when the stress of school or life would get too heavy. They might not be able to figure out the communication and emotions part out but they sure as hell could figure out the physical part. 

But that wasn't what had him deep in thought.

He had been nervous to begin his sixth year. The Dark Lord had given him a task and it was eating at him, little by little, all summer. He couldn't fail but he had no idea how to succeed. The end of summer came too quickly and not quickly enough. He could not stand living in that house one second longer. It's not that his home had ever been a particularly happy and warm place, full of laughter and love. But it had been home. Calm and comfortable. His parents, despite their faults, cared about him and showed it occasionally, in their own way.

That changed when _he_ came. Their living room, where he had spent countless hours with his family in quiet comfort, became a place of torture. Their dining room, where friends and family had come together for birthdays and anniversary's, a place of terror. The screams and howls of _his_ victims would keep Draco up at night, tossing and turning. The nightmares that plagued him making him almost fearful of closing his eyes. He couldn't wait to get the hell out of there, and at the same time, he didn't want to leave. No that's not right. He did want to leave, far, far, away. He did not want to return to Hogwarts. He didn't particularly like the old loon, but he sure as hell didn't want to kill him. Draco didn't want to kill anyone.

And yet, that was his assignment. Kill the Headmaster.

But despite the life-altering task he was given and the fact that he had absolutely no plan on how to complete it, that still was not what had him deep in thought.

It was her. That filthy little Mudblood.

She had been staring at him, at them. And she had been... _She was enjoying it._ Draco mused to himself. The image of Hermione, legs crossed, thighs pulsing, face flushed... _Fuck!_ He groaned inwardly. Despite himself, he couldn't help the shiver that went over his body. He wasn't blind. Little "Ms. Know-it-all" had definitely grown up. Not that a single Slytherin would admit it, not even under torture, but he had caught more than one eyeing her up and down all this week. And there she was, thigh-clenching masturbating to Pansy sucking him off. Draco was getting hard just remembering the way her eyes bore into him.

It was one of the most intense sexual experiences he had ever had with a girl. _And she wasn't even doing anything._ He thought, exasperated.

Draco ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He could hear the rest of the Slytherins around him, talking, playing drinking games. There was even a couple on the corner opposite him who couldn't be bothered to take their display of affection somewhere more private.

It seemed the annual "Welcome Back" party was still in full debauchery mode, and unlike years past, Draco couldn't seem to enjoy it. In fact, the loud noises were starting to give him a headache.

He closed his eyes again. He needed to get it together or get out of there. When he opened his eyes, he saw Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott approaching him. They both seemed composed despite the ridiculous amount of alcohol that Draco had seen them consume before leaving with Pansy. Draco groaned. This was about to get annoying.

"You seem in an awful foul mood for someone who just came back from feeding the kitty." Blaise said, taking a seat across from Draco. To his left, Theo also approached but chose to stand.

"Don't be so crass." Draco responded dismissively. He knew they were just messing around. Blaise and Theo had known Pansy almost as long as he had. They would never really bad-mouth her or talk too ill of her "indiscretions." But it still irritated him slighlty. Draco Malfoy was many things, but he didn't kiss and tell.

Blaise and Theo smiled mischievously but didn't press him. All three took a long sip of their drinks. Draco knew the change in his attitude was definitely going to attract commentary. Before leaving with Pansy to go "someplace more private," Draco was socializing, drinking, flirting. He even partook in some games. It's not that he was known for being the life of the party, but what he was doing in the corner could only be described as sulking.

"Well, why do you look like…" Theo started but was cut off. Draco glared at him, practically daring him to finish the sentence.

"Okay, okay." Theo said defensively, raising his hands up. "Don't blow my head off mate."

Draco downed his drink and got up from his seat.

"I'm over this. I'm going to bed." Draco said, his voice sounding bored, face impassive.

He turned and headed to his bedroom. Theo and Blaise gave each other a tense look before staring after Draco. Draco knew they knew about his task and they probably thought his sulking was related. To their credit, behind the cockiness and teasing, they seemed genuinely worried for their mate. He probably could have said something, ease their minds a bit, but Draco couldn't deal with them. Not tonight.

Draco entered his bedroom and looked at the clock. It was a little past two in the morning but he wasn't sleepy. He wasn't even the least bit tired. Try as he might he couldn't get that damn little wench off his mind. Images of her staring at him kept flashing by him. He could feel his trousers growing tighter.

 _Fucking shit._ He thought exasperated. The filthy little Mudblood could get him this hard with just the mere thought of her. He was disgusted and attracted by it all at the same time.

He took off his clothes and laid on his bed. He preferred to sleep naked most nights so he hadn't bothered with getting some boxers to sleep in. Besides, his dick was rock hard at the moment so any clothes would be quite uncomfortable.

Draco took a deep, calming breath. He refused to touch himself to the thought of her. His mind betrayed him however. The image of Hermione, hidden in the shadows, eyes closed, breathing ragged, thighs rubbing and clenching against each other permeated his consciousness. Draco closed his eyes, his cock practically screaming to be touched. He wanted relief but he refused to do it. He could not, would not, masturbate to Hermione Granger.

He tried to think of Pansy, how her mouth had felt around him. How her small hands wrapped and pumped what she couldn't reach. He tried to remember how it felt being buried inside her, walls clenching around him.

Draco reached for his dick and started pumping. Images of Pansy, bent down in front of him while he pounded into her from behind so hard he could feel his balls slapping her thighs, egging him on.

He felt the precum on his tip and used it lubricate his hand to make his jerking motions more smooth. He could hear Pansy's screams as she came undone around him.

Draco kept pumping, he was getting close. His muscles retracting and contracting, his hand moving even faster. Despite himself, he moaned. He was so close.

And then the image in his mind changed, but he was too far deep, too close to the edge to stop. The girl he was ramming into was no longer Pansy, the screaming and moaning that he had known intimately had shifted, they sounded different. The voice was different. Draco kept thrusting into his hand. It was almost painful how much he needed to cum.

His eyes tightly shut, images of him pounding into her, chasing his own release. His hand snaked up her back and wrapped itself in her long, brown tresses. He grasped her hair roughly and pulled her head up, using it as leverage to drive deeper into her. His fantasy was so vivid, he could practically hear the moans as she turned around to face him. _Fuck! So close! So close!_ His mind had gone blank to anything other than the sensation and the image in his head.

A pair of chocolate brown eyes stared at him, glazed with lust but still held that defiant look he both hated and enjoyed. Full of that Gryffindor fire.

And Draco came. Hard. His ejaculate came in long spurts all over his hand, landing on his stomach and thighs. He rode out the waves of bliss and calm that usually follow his orgasm. His whole body felt like jelly. 

He took deep breaths and counted to ten. Once his heart rate had settled he stared down at the mess he had made.

"Fuck." He said, disgusted and ashamed.

He had just had one of the best orgasms in his life and it had been to the thought of fucking the living brains out of the one female he could never have.

Draco got his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell. He laid back down on his bed and tried to think about absolutely anything other than a certain frizzy-haired witch.

Sixth year was already complicated enough, he couldn't afford any distractions.


	4. Saturday Part 1 - Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello everybody! Apologies for the delay in update but please accept this ridiculously long chapter to make up for it :) Please note that there is continuous jumping between present time and Hermione's memories of her prior years. 
> 
> This chapter contains brief descriptions of Hermione's PG and PG13 adventures with other female identifying character, explicit language describing masturbation, cussing, underage drinking, and non-con voyeurism.

Hermione's weekend came and went without further incident. Well that's excluding the fact that she woke up at five in the morning a needy, hot mess from one of the most vivid sex dreams she had ever had in recent memory, the star of which was none other than her childhood tormentor. And Hermione was definitely pretending that didn't happen. In fact, she was pretending the whole of Saturday did not exist. If asked her weekend skipped Saturday altogether. Yes, it was much much easier to pretend nothing happened.

Despite sleeping less than an hour, she was way too disturbed to fall back asleep. She wouldn't admit it, ever, but she was also slightly scared to try and fall back asleep. The dream had felt so real, she woke up with an ache between her thighs. If she fell back asleep, Hermione was not sure if she would be able to stop her brain from bringing up such explicit imagery.

Hermione lay in Parvati's bed for a beat, gathering herself. She could hear Parvati snoring softly from across the room. Hermione turned to look at the third bed in the room but Lavender was missing from it. The bed looked like it had not been slept in. Hermione was beginning to wonder where the blonde could be at. Hermione looked at the clock besides Parvati's table which read 4:56 am. There was no noise coming from the outside so everyone must be asleep by now. She was about to head out to the common room to see if Lavender had passed out on a couch or something, when she heard the door to their room quietly open. She heard soft voices whispering on the other side.

"Good night." She heard a voice whisper after Lavender, as she attempted to sneak into their room without making any noise. The voice was low, possibly male but it spoke to soft and to quickly for Hermione to pinpoint who's it was. All Hermione knew was she felt...odd.

She heard Lavender change into her night clothes and climb into her bed. Hermione let some minutes pass. Once she heard Lavender's soft snores join Parvati's, she moved to get out of the bed.

This whole morning was bizarre. In fact, this whole week had been insane. Hermione needed to wash it away.

She tip-toed quietly towards her side of the room and retrieved her shower caddy and some clothes to change into. She was about to turn to head towards the girls showers when she decided she'd make her way to the prefects showers instead. She needed a good soak and a lot of privacy. Plus, she didn't want to wake up the girls. It was a little past five in the morning.

Hermione walked quietly down the stairs and through the common room. There were still bodies thrown around here and there, sleeping. Once outside she walked with purpose towards the fifth floor of the castle, where the prefects bathroom was situated.

"Pine Fresh." Hermione said out loud.

The wall she was staring at began to rumble softly, a door materialized where none had been and she heard the distinctive click that signaled it was now open. She pushed the door gently and stepped inside. The door closed immediately behind her. If anyone had been standing in the hallway they would have seen the door merge into the wall once more.

The prefects bathroom was large. There was a small entrance to the left of the main door, inside of which were the toilets. On one wall was a line of bathroom stalls, opposite to them hung a large mirror with a line of sinks directly corresponding to the amount of stalls. Hermione walked past this entrance and headed towards the back left corner were small built-in wardrobes for people's belongings were. There were also two small changing rooms. Two exquisite and plush couches were arranged in the middle of the open space between the closets and the changing rooms. Why there were couches in a bathroom Hermione had never figured out, but she didn't mind them. They were very comfortable.

Hermione walked along the edge of the large, swimming pool sized tub which took up most of the center of the room. She had seen other prefects use it as if it were in fact a swimming pool and not a tub, diving off the diving board and holding swimming competitions.

The room looked larger still thanks to the insane amount of mirrors they had installed. She could catch her reflection from all angles. It could be disconcerting if one thought about it too much.

Although meant to be shared, there were options for privacy. Along the back wall of the bathroom, there were two doors, through them were mid-size rooms with a shower, iron claw foot tub, and a small vanity. The attention to detail on the decor of these rooms was fit for royalty. Lavish but clean cut. And this is why she came to the prefects bathrooms. Hermione's body hummed with excitement. After the last couple of hours she has had, she really could use relaxation to the umpteenth degree.

Hermione walked into one of the private shower rooms and headed towards the vanity. She slowly peeled her shirt and her pajama bottoms and stared at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a matching set of deep burgundy undergarments. Nothing too risque but she liked the way it made her feel.

As a child, she had never felt pretty. Her hair was too frizzy and she could not for the life of her figure out how to tame it. She had two big front teeth and she thought herself too pale and rather shapeless. By her second year, she found friends who taught her how to wrestle with her hair and she thanked whoever is above that her parents were dentists. Third year brought her period. Puberty and hormones had done magical things to her body and she was aware of it. This is when she began to notice how some of the way boys in school, and even some girls, began to stare at her, their gazes lingering a little too long to be just passing.

Despite this, it was still hard for her to feel pretty. She knew she was incredibly smart and she took immense pride in that. What are looks compared to a sharp mind. Logical Hermione knew that looks aren't everything, but Thirteen-Year-Old girl in the throes of developing her first crush was a different story altogether. This dichotomy in thought was furthered by the fact that her crush seemed oblivious to the fact that she identified as female. They were close friends, which Hermione reasoned was probably the issue, but he didn't even treat her like a sister, because that would imply he was aware of her gender. No, worse still, he treated her like one of his many brothers.

Hermione spinned around towards the bath and turned it on. She checked the temperature and added some strawberry and vanilla fragrances to it. Once the bath was drawn she placed a quick stasis charm on it to keep it warm and headed back towards the mirror. She saw herself approach and she appreciated the way her body moved. She unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor. The cool rush of air on her bare breasts caused a chill down her body. Her nipples stood erect. She lifted her hair up into a messy bun and began to turn around slowly in the mirror, admiring her shape. Her intelligence was her most prized descriptor, what she was most proud off. But if she was being honest, she was just as proud of her body. It took a long time to get to this place. A place where she could stare at herself and admire the way her body was shaped, the dips and peaks, the tenderness. She admired her body so much so that she would begin to lust after herself. She felt like a goddess in those moments. She remembered the first time she felt like this.

It was the summer before her fourth year. Her parents were very supportive of her magic and made immense efforts to learn about the wizarding world. However, they also insisted on having her form strong ties to the Muggle world. They wanted her to have options. As such, per official English records, she was technically being "home schooled" and she would send her parents her muggle assignments via owl. Every year when she went back home for the summer, she attended the annual "home schooled" mixer. Local parents of other home-schooled children began hosting these mixers as a way to encourage social interaction. She didn't necessarily look forward to them but she also did not not look forward to them.

That summer, the parents hosted a pool party for them and because they were now "young adults" they were allowed to be left alone. Or relatively alone. The parents retreated to some tables a couple of yards away from the pool, within eyesight but not earshot.

Hermione wore her first bikini that day. Her dad had looked uncomfortable but said nothing, her mom however beamed at her, going on and on about what a beautiful young woman she was becoming. It was all quite mortifying. It wasn't a skimpy string bikini, but it was the most naked she had been in a public setting in well, ever.

As Hermione stared at herself in nothing but her underwear in the vanity mirror, she recalled not wanting to take off her summer dress that day because she was embarrassed. She smiled at herself in the mirror, remembering the day vividly. The girls insisted she join a boys vs girls volleyball game inside the pool. After much pestering and light taunting, she reluctantly took off her dress and quickly jumped in the water. She could feel the stares of some of her "schoolmates" but they thankfully said nothing. After the game, the parents had told them all to go shower off and come back to the table to eat. Hermione headed into the showers inside the pools locker rooms to avoid being stared at more than necessary. She was still slightly uncomfortable with so much of her skin being exposed. She was about to head back outside when she saw one of her fellow "home schooled" students blocking her path.

Her name was Emily. This was her first year joining their mixer. Her cousin, Kyle, had been attending these mixers since before Hermione had joined. She was slightly taller than Hermione, but not by much. Her auburn hair, fell down in long waves. From what Hermione had heard in bits and pieces of conversation, Emily transitioned to homeschooling when she began taking gymnastics training more serious. Her body was toned, showing off her years of training. She was a year older than Hermione and puberty had been kind. Hermione's eyes dropped down to the front of Emily's chest. Although not entirely attracted, she was not not attracted. Femininity was beautiful to Hermione, especially because it was something she was convinced she lacked.

Emily stared at Hermione staring at her cleavage and smiled. Hermione locked eyes with her and blushed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare." Hermione had said, face getting redder.

"It's okay." Emily said. Emily looked up and down Hermione's body. She had not been shy about it. She had wanted Hermione to look at her doing it. Hermione could feel her gaze and her red cheeks got even redder.

"You look really pretty when you blush." Emily said taking a step closer. Hermione held her breath. She had no idea what was happening. Emily got even closer and reached out her hand towards Hermione.

Hermione looked down at Emily's outstretched hand and her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Hermione took Emily's hand in her own, she stared at the hands for a second.

"How does that feel?" Emily asked cautiously. Hermione thought about the question, her analytical mind really focusing.

"It's not bad. Just...different I suppose." She finally answered. She was unsure of why different was the word that came to mind, it's not like she had ever held a boys hand to compare it with but that was the word that felt right.

"Can I kiss you?" Emily asked, her voice low. Shy.

Hermione thought about it a bit. She had never kissed anyone before. Girl or boy. She wasn't sure what to expect to be honest. She had seen plenty of movies and read many, many books where individuals kissed. The kisses varied, some were shown to be an explosion of romance, others seemed awkward. Hermione had thought about kissing in general before, but never really about her first kiss or what it'd be like, or with who.

The closest she got was earlier that year, she was sitting in Transfiguration, Ron was beside her as she quietly explained the lesson to him. He was thoroughly perplexed but looked up and smiled at her when he finally understood a small bit of it, the sun had hit him in a way that made his red hair look vibrant. His eyes twinkled and for a brief second she thought about kissing him.

Her brain told her that she wasn't necessarily opposed to her first kiss being in the pool's locker rooms. She also didn't particularly mind that it was with Emily. As Hermione was trying to figure all of this out, Emily began to pull away.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." She said looking apologetic. Hermione realized what she must have looked like, deep in thought.

"No!" She said a little too loud making her and Emily jump, "No, sorry." She giggled nervously. "I, uhm, sorry, I was just thinking. I kind of get lost in there sometimes." Hermione felt the heat rush to her face again. Emily took her hand back and looked at Hermione patiently.

"I, well, I have never, uhm.." Hermione began to stutter. She was nervous but a good nervous, if there was such a thing.

Emily smiled. "Relax." She said, "Me neither."

They stared at each other smiling and burst into giggles. Both girls were nervous and giddy.

"Well, uhm, should we…" Emily started, the awkwardness and excitement mixing in her voice.

"Yes, well, yes. Uhm. Okay." Hermione tried to sound confident.

Emily and Hermione, leaned in at the same time and bumped their foreheads causing both girls to erupt in another fit of giggles.

"Sorry." They said at the same time. They both became really quiet, afraid that any noise might break the spell of whatever was happening at the moment.

"Okay, well uhm, why don't you stay still and I'll lean in." Hermione said more determined. Despite how totally bizarre and awkward this whole encounter was, she felt a bit at ease knowing that Emily was just as affected by this. That she somehow affected her.

Emily nodded and stayed still. Hermione leaned in and saw Emily close her eyes and hold her breath. Hermione smiled as she placed a shy peck on her lips. She pulled back and looked at Emily. Emily opened her eyes and smiled at Hermione. They stared at each other for a bit.

"So.." Hermione started, "Well…" Emily said at the same time.

"Hermione!" Her mother's voice reverberated across the locker room walls causing both girls to jump apart and squeal.

"Hermione!" Her mother's voice sounded again.

"In here mother!" She shouted after her. "Emily and I came to use the loo and shower off. We are on our way out."

"Okay sweetie!" Her mother's voice sounded content at the explanation. She could hear her mother's footsteps as they departed.

Both girls smiled at each other warmly, but the moment had passed.

Hermione had removed her underwear and she was now staring at herself fully naked. She touched her lips and smiled. Her first kiss had been nice, innocent. She was glad it was with Emily, though she never saw her again. It was sweet. The way Emily had looked her up and down had brought a small thrill to Hermione.

Afterwards, when she was back home and getting ready to shower, she had stared at herself in the mirror like many times before. But unlike before, she didn't look away quickly. This time she stared at herself. She was trying to see what Emily had seen. It took some time, but by the time she returned to Hogwarts for her fourth year, she thought she had been able to find it.

Hermione gave herself one final look over and turned to step into the shower to rinse off and wash her body quickly before her shower. She then descended into her bath and closed her eyes.

She let the warmth of the water soothe her body and allowed the strawberry and vanilla scents relax her mind. She could feel the stress of the last week leave her. Thoughts of platinum blonde ferrets and whispered goodnights were nowhere to be found and she was thankful for that.

Her mind had descended into thoughts of her fourth year. Fourteen year old Hermione had quite the year, what with the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's return. Hermione took a deep breath. _Not now._ Hermione refused for any negative thoughts to plague her mind. If she couldn't sleep, she was determined to at the very least relax. She arched her back slightly and leaned her head from side to side, that satisfying sound of her back and neck popping lulling her back into comfort.

Despite all the crazy, fourteen was a good year in what Hermione had since then dubbed her sexploration. She had unknowingly caught the eye of one of the Wizarding World's most famous Quidditch players, which had come with the added bonus of peeving off the insufferable Ronald Weasly. He had become more and more irritating as the year had gone by and Hermione had found herself stuck between a childish and petty "war" between Harry and Ron, with Ron surpassing his previous cap of how much of a stubborn git he could be.

 _Breathe Hermione._ She thought to herself. _No use getting re-upset over the whole thing. Not when you are having me time._

Yes, fourth year had been a crazy one, but she did manage to have some fun, albeit, in deep corners of the castle where she was positive no one was looking.

Viktor Krum, was very tall and muscular. His features were large and manly. He was definitely not a boy. Krum was 18 years old and he had never had issues pursuing what he wanted. He was confident and sure in all he did. And yet, despite this, he seemed to be at a loss on how to approach Hermione. The usually quiet confidence and intimidating demeanor was lost when Hermione was around him. He seemed content to follow her around the castle, never engaging but always near, staring at her. It would've been a tad bit creepy if he didn't blush like crazy every time she caught his eye. He finally approached her one day while she was at the library. Well she approached him after she saw him visibly struggling with himself in the corner of one of the aisles of books. She asked him how he was and he said nothing. She smiled warmly at him and he smiled back. Smiling Krum was quite the picture. His face softened significantly, and it made him seem a lot less imposing. He had then very politely and formally asked her to the Yule ball, which she accepted. He seemed content and it looked like he was about to turn and leave when he unexpectedly grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles lightly. Hermione blushed furiously which seemed to return some of Krum's confidence back to him.

Hermione remembered that memory fondly. She looked around at the clock hanging in the shower room and noticed it a little past five thirty in the morning. She took a deep breath and began to softly run her hands up and down the sides of her torso. Just a couple more minutes and she'd rinse off and maybe head back to her room to rest. She had hardly slept that night and she already felt significantly more at ease. Maybe she could attempt to fall asleep now that all thoughts of her crazy, horrible, no-good dream were nowhere in sight.

Hermione began to caress herself lightly. That little dream she had, had left her feeling a little wound up. She needed to release but refused to let herself remember what had caused her to wake up in such a state.

Instead, she let her mind take her back to Fourth year, when much rougher hands had done something similar. Though her and Krum had not actually had sex at that time, she did allow herself to explore a bit. He was older and more experienced and to be frank he was going to leave at the end of the tournament and the chances of seeing him again were slim to none. It felt like a pretty safe way to explore a bit. They never progressed further than some pretty intense snogging, but it had still proven to be quite informative. She discovered she very much enjoyed when he was a tad bit aggressive.

She began to trail her finger up and down her stomach pausing right below her breasts. She thought fondly back to when he would bite her lips and pull her hair, or how his rough hands would grasp her waist tightly, pulling her towards him with force. The first time he did that, Hermione discovered light bruises where his fingers had been. The sight of them had made her heart flutter a bit, and now, sitting in the bathtub, slowly caressing herself, it did the same. Despite the warm water, a chill went down her body.

Hermione's hands began to reach farther down her sides and up her thighs until they reached her knee caps, which were barely visible above the waterline. She closed her eyes, images of her time with Krum flashing in her mind. Krum had visited her during the summer before her fifth year at Hogwarts. She had taken him to Muggle London mostly to show him some of her favorite places, but also to avoid the annoying little bug that was Rita Skeeter. That had been her selling point and Viktor accepted, albeit warily.

He wasn't a blood purist, but he had never been in Muggle anything and the idea of it made him worry slightly. Yet, when the day came, he was surprisingly good-natured about the whole thing. So much so that Hermione rewarded him with some intense snogging at the back of the cinema. The theater was pretty empty so she wasn't overly worried that they'd be caught, and even if they were, she doubted they'd get into too much trouble. This is how Hermione learned another interesting tidbit in her sexploration. She enjoyed the thrill of the possibility of being caught in a compromising position.

Hermione parted her legs slightly, just wide enough to allow her hands to begin caressing the inside of her thighs. She opened her eyes slightly to glance at the clock. 5:42 am.

Hermione could feel her body purr in anticipation as her fingers approached her most intimate parts. She spread her legs a little wider, giving herself more access. As one hand slowly stroked between her legs, the other worked its way up her body, towards her breast. Her fingers dragged in lazy circles around her nipples.

Hermione had turned 16 early onto her fifth year. The Gryffindors had thrown her a big party in the common room, full of smuggled in alcohol. That was the first time Hermione had gotten drunk. Not falling over herself, throwing up in the hallways drunk, but the kind of drunk that you feel a happy buzz tingling throughout her whole body. She had enjoyed the way the firewhisky had burned as she swallowed and she definitely enjoyed how relaxed she felt.

Somehow in all the craziness, Hermione managed to sneak outside of the dormitories for a brief minute. She had begun to feel overwhelmed by all the people and the noise. She needed a small reprieve to gather herself. As she roamed the hallways with no real destination she began to feel a bit dizzy. She sat down on the floor where she was walking and laid down. She began to doze off when she heard a loud voice call to her.

"Excuse me!" The voice sounded worried. Hermione heard quick footsteps approaching her. Hermione raised one of her arms as if to signal, "I'm fine. Just drunk." At least she hoped that's what had been conveyed.

"Granger?" The voice asked with a tinge of disbelief. The tone annoyed Hermione and caused her to sit up to stare at the voice.

"What." She said, finally looking at the owner of the voice. Hermione recognized her from the prefects meeting earlier that year. She was model-esque in statute and looks. Honey blonde locks fell right above her shoulders. She was a year older and was wearing Ravenclaw robes.

"Well." Hermione added, the alcohol in her system did little to help her put on a polite front.

"I was just wondering if you were alright." She asked, kneeling on the floor next to Hermione.

"I'm fine Catherine. Thank you for asking." Hermione stared at the girl impatiently. She had come out here to avoid people not to talk to more.

"Are you drunk?" Catherine said, humor in her voice.

"Depends on who's asking." Hermione said irritation in her voice. She didn't like that literally everyone in the whole dang castle couldn't believe that "Little Ms. Know-it-all" would partake in any "debauchery." Hermione attempted to stand up, but she moved too quickly, the alcohol and the sudden change in balance caused her to lose her footing and Hermione began to topple backwards. Catherine turned on her knees and helped catch Hermione before her back hit the floor.

Hermione remembered how it had felt to be in Catherine's arms. They were smaller that Krums but warmer, softer. She hadn't meant to snuggle into them, but her mind was fogging. She was drunker than she first had anticipated. She remembered the sudden thrill that exploded through her body being so close to another.

They had stared at each other then. Hermione hadn't made the attempt to move and Catherine hadn't made the attempt to move her. Hermione smiled at the girl, "Thanks."

"No problem." Catherine said, returning her smile.

"Here, let me help you up." Catherine slowly pushed her out of her arms and stood up, extending a hand out for Hermione. Hermione took it, Catherine's hand seemed so small and delicate compared to hers.

They stood in the middle of the hallway, staring at each other.

"You're really pretty." Hermione blurted out before she could think. She was about to apologize but she noticed Catherine blushing.

"Thanks." She mumbled. "Uhm, would you like me to walk you back to the Gryffindor tower. It's kind of late and you might fall asleep between here and there." She teased a bit.

Hermione laughed, "Sure."

They began walking, their hands brushing against each other. Each time they touched slightly felt like electricity to Hermione.

They walk back was done in comfortable silence. As they were about to round the final corner before approaching the Fat Lady portrait, Hermione grabbed Catherine's hand and stopped her.

Catherine looked at her confused. Hermione pulled Catherine towards her slowly. Slow enough to give her enough time to realize what was happening and stop her if she would like. But Catherine hadn't stopped her.

As Hermione's fingers found her entrance and the other hand had stopped playing with her nipples and found its way to the bundle of nerves at her center, she thought about that kiss. She remembered how exhilarating it had felt to be in charge. The kiss had started off softly. Both girls shy. Hermione turned them and pushed Catherine towards the wall behind her. Catherine had let out a small gasp when her back collided with the hard panel.

Hermione led out a similar gasp as she pushed another finger inside her. Her other hand began rubbing her clit in slow circles. She felt the pressure in the base of her stomach starting to build. She closed her eyes and worked herself with a quicker pace.

Catherine had been fun. They snogged heavily up against the wall, until they were both left breathless, lips swollen. Catherine was another individual who had added significant insight into her sexploration.

After the night of her birthday, Hermione would see Catherine around the castle grounds. They would smile at each other and engage in polite small talk when in close proximity but that was mostly it. They would pick up where they left off when they were assigned to patrol the halls together. Sometimes sneaking into a girls restroom or an empty classroom.

Similar to Krum, they never progressed much from intense snogging and heavy petting. In one particularly heated session, Hermione had slowly guided Catherine's hand under Hermione's skirt and between her legs and used her fingers to rub her sex over her underwear. After some guiding, Hermione let go of Catherine's hand and let the girl take over.

As Hermione began to pump herself a bit faster, curling her fingers to hit that one sweet spot. Soft gasps and moans escaped her, egging her on. Hermione was getting close.

Although things had gotten a bit awkward with Catherine towards the end of fifth year, she bore no ill-will for the girl. It just sort of fizzled as those things do from time to time. Catherine wanted to try something more serious. Hermione did not. It's not that Hermione minded being seen with Catherine, it's that she really didn't have time to properly date. Umbridge was making life at Hogwarts a living hell, defending Harry's reputation was becoming a full-time job, Dumbledore's Army was in full effect, and most important, O.W.L. exams were approaching. Catherine seemed to understand but it was never the same after that.

But that was okay, whatever Hermione had had with Catherine and Viktor was enough at the moment. And it thankfully left her with vivid memories to recall for "me time" purposes.

Hermione allowed her brain to wander through her most intimate moments as she continued her ministrations. _Fuck._ Hermione was getting frustrated, she was right at the edge but she couldn't make herself fall off it. Hermione let her mind wander to some of her most risque fantasies. She just needed that little push, the little extra something.

She added a third finger. So close. So close.

And then her mind stumbled all the way into her earlier dream. Or nightmare as she had chosen to refer to it. Images of Draco Malfoy, towering over her naked body while he was almost fully clothed, trousers hanging low enough that his member could be released, pounding into her mercilessly, one hand holding on to the headrest, the other gently squeezing at the sides of her throat.

Her mind went blank. Finally. Finally. Her orgasm took over her body and felt the tension release. Her eyes remained closed. She let the warm water envelop her like a fuzzy blanket and allowed her body to come down on its own. She refused to feel ashamed that it took final images of a certain platinum blonde Slytherin to push her off the edge.

 _Fuck it_. She was too much on a high to care. She smiled softly.

"Three fingers Granger? Color me impressed. And here I thought you were a shriveled up muddy blood virgin."

Hermione's entire body tensed as his voice hit her like a bucket of ice. Her eyes shot open only to find herself starting into his steel greys. All the hard earned relaxation evaporated in an instant. Her heart was beating so loud she was sure the whole castle could hear it.

She wanted to scream but was currently in a state of panic. Shock seemed to have severed the connection between her brain and her mouth.

Malfoy laughed coldly.

"Well ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in the history of Hogwarts, Little Miss not happy until her big fat mouth is open and spewing nonsense has finally shut up."

That woke her up. _The fucking nerve of him._

Hermione stood up abruptly, water splashing off the sides of the bathtub and onto the floor. She stood there in all her naked glory and felt a surge of power and Malfoy couldn't help but look her over. His appreciation of her body clearly showing on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing in the _private_ shower rooms at 6 in the morning!" Hermione screamed at him. She stepped out of the bath and grabbed the towel that she had put on a nearby chair. From the corners of her eyes she could see Malfoy watching her every move like a hawk. She wrapped her towel snuggly around her body and turned to the boy standing at the entrance of the room.

"Well Malfoy! I'm fucking waiting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: First, regarding Hermione's sexuality - She does not identify as straight, gay, bisexual, pansexual, or other identity of your choosing, at least not yet. This chapter is meant to provide context as to where Hermione is in terms of her sexual development. She is exploring her likes and dislikes, including her partner preferences. This is first and foremost a Dramione fanfic, which means her main partner will be Draco Malfoy. If you got a problem with LGBT+ relationship depictions then please exit this fic because I will not be making further warnings about this in the future. (This isn't to be mean it's simply due to the fact that I don't make warnings every time I am depicting a hetero-passing relationship so I will not do it for any other type of relationship)
> 
> Second, a bit of house keeping - I continuously read through prior chapters and make necessary edits to grammar/spelling. I am a perfectionist and literally every time I read a chapter again I become annoyed at all the mistakes :( I hardly ever make substantive changes, but if I do they will be to add more details/ descriptions of a character and/or their interactions with one another. This is to help develop the story further and provide a good foundation for later chapters. I will always let you know when I have done this. Although I would recommend re-reading the edited chapters, not doing so will not prove detrimental to your understanding of the story. With that said, please reread Chapters 2 and 3 again as there were some minor changes added to Cormac and Theo and Blaise to provide more of a solid base for each character and their function within this fic. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading not only my story but these long AN's as well :P I will refrain from doing AN's moving forward unless absolutely necessary and/or to provide warnings regarding substance of chapter. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.


	5. Saturday Part 2 - Why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter contains heavy cursing, physical violence (harsh wrist grabbing/smacking), verbal abuse. Most importantly there is a situation that can be construed as sexual violence (Hermione definitely reacts in a manner that suggests that is how she was beginning to interpret the situation)
> 
> I promise this chapter is not as dark as the trigger warnings suggest (it's definitely angsty though) but I do want to be a responsible author and make sure that my readers are provided with as much warning as possible without giving the whole chapter away. I'd rather over warn you all (if that is a thing).
> 
> If you are a reader that is triggered by the above and would not like to read anything relating to the above but would still like to read my fic I can happily provide you with a summary of this chapter via private message. (I have this story on FanFiction.net where you can PM me. Alternative, would be via email I suppose?)

Hermione had never felt more mortified in her entire life.

She stood in the middle of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel glaring at the insufferable prat standing across her.

"Well!" She huffed. Seeing him smirk down at her was making her blood boil.

He laughed.

He actually had the audacity to fucking laugh.

_That's it._

She didn't usually promote violence but Hermione remembered how satisfying it had been to punch Malfoy back in third year and she wanted to feel that again. She wanted to punch that infuriating smirk that was plastered on his face.

She stomped towards him, hand raising as she got closer, ready to strike him.

The laughter died immediately. His eyes grew cold and before she knew what was happening he had grabbed her wrist and whipped her around until she felt herself hit the wall. It all happened so quickly. She stared up at him, disoriented.

He was close. So close to her.

The force of the action had dropped her towel.

She was standing there, naked, Malfoy's hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, eyes full of wrath.

"Don't ever raise your hands at me again you filthy little Mudblood." He spat at her.

Hermione was frozen. She couldn't breathe. She could feel the cold air hit her naked body but she felt inexplicably hot.

He was so close. And she was naked. And she was wet. And he was so close.

A wave of panic washed over her. Every nerve in her body alert.

"Let go of me." She said. She meant for it to come out strong and confident but her voice was too low.

"No." He grabbed her other wrist before she even saw his hand move and he pinned both her arms above her head, the motion making her breasts stand at attention. Her head rushed with a million thoughts. All too fast. 

"Ma-ma-" She started to whimper. She was terrified.

Malfoy stared her down. His face inches away. His eyes showed know emotion. Dead.

She could smell him, he was so close. She could feel tears begin to form, her eyes were getting cloudy. She didn't want to cry, especially not in front of him. She didn't want him to see her scared. Scared of him. But she couldn't help it. She felt the knot in her throat.

And just as quickly as he had grabbed her, he let her go. He turned around and grabbed the towel from the floor and threw it at her. Hermione still couldn't move. The towel bounced off her body and hit the floor, pooling around her feet.

Malfoy turned around, giving her his back.

"Fucking relax." His voice came out strained. "I'm a lot of things Granger, but I'm not a rapist."

Hermione took deep breaths. She wasn't going to cry. She refused to cry. She would not give him that satisfaction.

Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.

She shakily reached below her to grab the towel, eyes never leaving Malfoy. Terror and anger mixing and become something she couldn't describe. 

She wrapped the towel around her body once more. They both stood in silence for a minute.

"So it's okay for you too spy on me but flip the tables and I'm the fucking pervert." He spat. He was still facing away from her.

Hermione still couldn't find her voice.

They both breathed deeply.

Hermione kept staring at Malfoy's back. He had grown over the summer. He was taller. His body, although still lean, had muscle. She could see them under his thin white shirt. He seemed to be wearing pajama bottoms as well. Had he not been able to sleep either? Is that why he had come harass her? Why? Why her? There were plenty of other Muggle-born witches at Hogwarts? Why her?

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

The question was like a bucket of ice water to the face.

"Turn and look me in the eye Malfoy." Hermione heard herself say. It did not sound like her. It was like she had become two different people. The girl who had spoke scared her. Her voice came out like daggers ready to cut down anything and anyone who stood in the way.

Malfoy didn't move.

"Turn and fucking look at me." The voice that was hers but wasn't hers said.

Still, Malfoy didn't move.

"Turn the fuck around and fucking look at me you little piece of shit." She shrieked.

Slowly, Malfoy began to turn until he faced her, but his eyes were staring at the wall behind her.

"Look me in the fucking eye and tell me what the fuck was that."

Nothing.

"Malfoy look me in the fucking eye you fucking waste of space."

Cold grey eyes met chocolate brown.

For a brief moment, so brief she was sure she had imagined it, she saw shame reflected in his stare. And then it was gone.

"Don't flatter yourself Granger." He said, sounding almost bored. Almost. But his voice was too strained, too shaky. He couldn't hold her gaze.

"Don't…don't flatter…" If Hermione had been in shock a couple of minutes prior, that had definitely brought her back to reality. And she was livid.

"How fucking dare you!" She screamed. "How fucking dare you, you coward!"

"I said fucking look at me!" She yelled so loud it made Malfoy jump a bit. His eyes found hers once more. "Yes, yes I saw you and Pansy, yes I stared and you know what else, fuck it, yes it turned me on, but you were in a PUBLIC hallway. PUBLIC MALFOY! FUCKING PUBLIC HALLWAY!" Hermione's voice was so loud and shrill she was sure someone outside was going to be able to hear her despite the magic surrounding the room.

"I WAS IN A PRIVATE. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT MEANS? FUCKING PRIVATE! PRIVATE ROOM." She was so mad she couldn't even see straight anymore.

"THEN NOT ONLY DO YOU INSULT ME YOU." Hermione had begun smacking his chest, her fury was too much, she couldn't contain it, she needed an outlet and hitting him in the chest was proving to be a great one. "FUCKING" _hit._ "ATTACK" _hit._ "ME!" _hit. Hit. Hit._

"HOW! HOW IS THAT EVEN FUCKING CLOSE TO THE SAME THING!" She was smacking him all over now. His chest. His arms. His stomach. His face. Wherever her arms could reach. She kept smacking him until she started losing steam.

Her breath was ragged. She kept smacking him until she couldn't anymore. Until she physically could not life her arms anymore. 

She took a step back and stared at him. He was looking at the wall behind her, eyes dead of all emotion.

As she tried to control her breathing, she slowly realized that he hadn't stopped her once. He let her hit him again and again. Despite what he had said earlier, he just stood there and took it.

He didn't flinch or try to back away. He didn't grab her wrists again. He had just stood there, motionless, staring at the wall behind her.

Hermione was still breathing hard.

"Are you done?" He said robotically. She continued to huff. 

He bent down in front of her to grab her towel because once again it had fallen off her body. She had been to enraged to even notice. He held it out this time. He held it out to her. His eyes were still glued to the wall behind her.

She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her self for the third time.

Only when she was covered did he turn to look at her.

Their eyes met.

Anger.

Terror.

Grief.

Confusion.

Dead.

It was all too fast. It was too much.

Hermione looked away.

She could feel Malfoy next to her. She began taking deep breaths.

She heard Malfoy leave and close the door behind her.

She could hear his distant footsteps as the echoed of the empty prefect's restroom.

She counted to ten slowly.

That should be enough time for him to have exited the bathroom.

 _10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1_.

And then she broke down.

_Why?_


	6. Raw

Draco barely listened to Professor Sinistra as she rambled through her lecture. Despite himself, his mind kept replaying the events of the past weekend in vivid detail.

After the dramatic display inside the prefect's bathroom, Draco had retreated to the dungeons where he had remained until this morning. Feigning a hangover, he had managed to avoid most of the incessant nagging that came from Theo and Blaise. He refused to acknowledge that he had been "hiding" from the mudblood. He was Draco Malfoy, he hid from no one, especially not some snotty little witch.

He had just needed some time to process.

The experience had drained him. Emotions he would rather not confront left him feeling raw and exposed.

The palpable fear in her eyes when he had pinned both her arms above her head had been too similar to the fear in _his_ victims right before he…

He didn't want to be like _him_. He never wanted to be like any of them. The way they reveled in death and pain. How they seemed to gain power from the screams and pleas of their victims.

He didn't particularly care for the wench but to have her look at him like that, to think him capable of something so vile.

Draco turned to stare out the window of the astronomy tower where their class was being held.

The empty feeling in the pit of his stomach had been there since that moment since she had looked at him with genuine fear. Despite her many shortcomings, one of the things he begrudgingly admired was her fearlessness...that Gryffindor trait was woven into every fiber of her being. And yet, for a brief moment he had extinguished that fire. Had he been his eleven-year-old self he might have celebrated his accomplishment, but now at sixteen, with the shit he had seen...it was nothing to be proud of.

Like most things in his life, it all had gone south really quick. He had wandered into the prefect's bathroom mostly out of a strong desire to wash away his guilt at cumming harder than he ever had in his life imagining himself with her. He would've used the Slytherin showers but he needed space from them as well. Being around them was a constant reminder of what his task was. He had simply wanted to be alone.

But once inside he could hear faint sighs and gasps. It was too low for him to discern what it could be and the closer he got to the sound the more intrigued he became. Had it been wrong to peep through the slightly ajar bathroom door? Most definitely. His brain had rationalized it however. _Just look in really quickly and make sure everything is alright_. What if the sounds were not moans of passion but of pain? The logical part of him knew that was stupid. It was so obvious what the sounds were standing so close to the door, but he looked anyway. He had never expected to be confronted by the one witch he had come to erase from his consciousness, worse yet, to have her wet and naked, touching herself in a way that told him she was not new to this. Intrigued and aroused, he remained where he stood.

And then he spoke because he couldn't help himself. Because she looked delicious and he hated it. Because she was infiltrating his mind and he couldn't bear it. And then it had all been a series of reactive moves, his physical body severed from his brain. How had he ended up hovering over her as she stood naked and trembling? Why was he holding both her hands above her head? Had he ever seen the headstrong and fearless Gryffindor look so terrified?

He let go of her immediately. He tried to avert his gaze, giving her back the towel that had pooled around her feet and turning away, but it was too late. The damage was done.

_Fucking relax._ He heard himself say, trying desperately to hide the regret in his voice. _I'm a lot of things, Granger, but I'm not a rapist._ He needed her to believe him but he wasn't sure why.

If he had thought her panicked stare would be the worst of it, he had been wrong.

_You little piece of shit._

_You fucking waste of space._

_You coward._

In a weird way, hearing her say aloud everything he constantly told himself had been cathartic. Feeling her tiny but powerful fists berating his chest had been soothing. Seeing her explode with emotions in a way he could never allow himself to do pacified him. A flood of emotions swept through him. Anger, at himself, at his parents, at the fucked up situation he currently found himself in. Terror, at the gut-wrenching thoughts of both failing and succeeding at his mission. Grief, over the simple life he used to lead that, would never be again. Confusion, how could one simple witch, a witch that he had constantly learned to be beneath him cause all this.

It was too much.

He turned and walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He didn't stop. He continued walking in his semi-dazed state until he was back in his bed where he drifted into a restless sleep.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Sinastra's shrill voice shook him from his inner musings. He turned, still slightly alarmed towards the dark-skinned professor.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you feeling ill?" She asked her eyes etched with suspicion. He shook his head in lieu of a verbal response.

"Then I would appreciate it if you would refrain from daydreaming and focus on the lecture as it will be on the exam." She huffed and returned back to her lecture. He could hear the snickers of some of his classmates but he chose to ignore them and tried everything in his power to focus on anything other than the pair of deep, chocolate brown eyes that seemed determined to haunt his every thought.

* * *

Hermione sat in the middle of the bathroom and cried. She cried as she had seldom allowed herself to cry before. A release of all the confusion and fear and anger that had been whirling inside her since Malfoy spoke and ripped her from her blissful high. Soon, her tears became frantic as she finally allowed herself to feel emotions she had so carefully boxed up and shelved. Her frustration at her role in the group, the way the adults so callously dumped Harry, Ron, and herself with such a heavy burden, her anger at Ron's inability to see her as a woman, her fear over the war to come...everything she had been holding onto came pouring out of her until she had no more sorrow left to give.

After a couple of minutes of silence she stood up on shaky legs and walked out towards the lockers where her clothes lay. Her movements were robotic as she changed into her clean clothes. Exhausted and raw, she lay down on one of the couches and fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was way past noon, by the time a 5th year Hufflepuff prefect found her and shook her awake. Slightly dazed and confused she grabbed her stuff and headed out of the prefect's bathroom.

Hermione allowed herself one day of reading for the fun of reading. She did not do homework or advance her assigned reading. No, she needed to get lost in a world that was not hers. Preferably a world where the characters had a lot of sex.

She spent the remainder of her day, reading smut and ignoring the outside world. Ginny had popped her head in to ask if she had been feeling well. Hermione accepted Ginny's offer to bring her food but otherwise told her she was fine.

Monday morning came and Hermione felt better, lighter. Crying her eyes raw had been cleansing. She had resolved to move forward, move on. Saturday? What Saturday? As far as she was concerned, her weekend skipped Saturday altogether. Better yet, what weekend?

She walked into the great hall for breakfast like any other Monday morning. She sat in between Harry and Ron and ate her egg whites, bagel, and tea as she would regularly. She partook in friendly chatter and smiled as customary. And when her peripheral caught a flash of platinum-blonde hair entering the room she ignored it as she had every other time.

And when they briefly locked eyes as she walked past the Slytherin table to exit the Great Hall she continued on as if nothing had happened. Because that's what she had felt.

Nothing.


End file.
